Echoes
by fmapreshwab
Summary: A few glimpses of how things could have been between John and Rodney. McShep.
1. Arcturis

Do I remember Arcturis? You'll excuse me if I don't scratch my head and puzzle through that particularly idiotic question. What do you mean remember? How could I forget? One failure in a lifetime of success, and that one project is everywhere I go.

I think of it every moment of the day. It's there, like the elephant in the room, when Sheppard won't meet my eyes in the staff briefings, when we're on a mission and he relays my orders through Ronon, when I need someone to talk to and I have to turn to Carson.

I think about it every time Radek comes up behind me and pats me on the shoulder with that insufferable 'everything will be alright, buck up' grin of his when he finds me eating yet another meal alone. I think about it when I walk down the hall and John conveniently finds an excuse to go the other way. It was there when he met my gaze in the hall outside the mess, and the emptiness in his eyes was everything.

But mostly, it's there when I close my eyes at night to sleep, and my mind repeats that moment over and again, when I took a hammer to that fragile little world of mine in the form of two simple words. "Trust me," I said. He did, and it was the biggest mistake either of us have made in a long time. So yes, the short answer would be, I remember. And it's because I remember that I'm on this balcony, his balcony, waiting.

It's the fifth balcony on the 18th floor on the south side of the northernmost tower. The sun directly hits this balcony almost every minute of the day, and so it's always a safe bet when he wants to fry himself. It's also in a secluded area of the city, so he can come here when he wants to be alone, which has been almost always lately. Until now, I've respected his privacy, letting him stew and hoping he'd come to me on his own, but now I have to take the initiative. So here I wait.

I'm looking out over the edge, staring into the water he loves so much, turning to the city that's become home to all of us, when the door slides open. I hear him gasp, and I can hear him turning on his heal to go, so I turn. "John."

"Rodney." He's turning again, he wants so much to leave, and I can't blame him.

"Wait," I call, and I'm actually surprised when he does. "I—just…sit," I tell him, gesturing to a table and a set of chairs. "I have some things I need to say…you don't have to say anything—just-just listen."

I have to turn again to the horizon as he sits behind me, steeling myself for all the things I don't know I can tell him. I feel tears coming to my eyes and I can't think why I should be crying. I sniff, wipe at my eyes, and turn back to him. The emptiness is gone, replaced by something I can't quite place, and I can't tell whether or not that's a good thing.

I start out slowly, testing the waters so to speak. "Jo—Shep…uh, Colonel," I lamely settle on. I can't say his name, not to his face like this. "Over the past couple of weeks, it's come to my attention that maybe we haven't been spending as much time together as we used to. I—we, uh…You haven't said a word to me in weeks. You always seem to be busy, and I can only think maybe it's intentional." He gives me one of those looks I always give him when he says something so damned obvious. The tears are welling up in me again, and I still can't think of a reason they should be there. Oh, that's a lie. I miss him, miss how we used to be, laughing and talking and being friends.

"John," I start again, finally bringing myself to say his name. "I see you living your life like nothing even happened." I pause for a moment, but carry on fiercely, determined not to let my head get in the way of what needs to be said. "Except it did happen, you know? I screwed up, betrayed your trust and almost got us killed. But that was weeks ago. I won't pretend to know what that was like for you, but I can understand that you were hurt and angry, and going through whatever the hell it is that you're supposed to feel in that kind of situation. But now you're avoiding me like the Wraith, and why the hell can't we just be okay again? Why can't Arcturis just be in the past?"

He stands and I'd think he was leaving, but for the look on his face. "Because it did happen, Rodney, and it's not in the past yet, that's why!" He's shouting at me, but I can barely hear. "I can't let this go yet! It could've been a lot worse, because we both screwed up! I can't forgive you, and I can't forgive myself. Not yet," he finishes quietly.

The tears are fighting again for a control I never really had, and I'm crying in front of him, which is something I always promised myself would never happen. "Why? Why did you do it? You could've, should've said no. Sure, I would have been angry, but I think you know me well enough to know that I like getting angry." He's staring again, watching me fall apart and not even pretending to pick up the pieces. "Dammit, John, how can you just sit there? Say something, damn you, answer me! How could you trust me?"

I'm on my knees, but only because I can no longer stand. I just know he thinks I'm begging. I want to shout, to curse him until I pass out, but I don't have the heart for it. I can barely see through the tears, but was that the smallest flicker of compassion? He stands, and I expect to hear the door slide open, but he's crossed the balcony, kneeling before me, hands on either shoulder. It all took more out of me than I thought, and I collapse into him. There is the barest whisper of "You earned it," before he reaches out and wipes the tears from my eyes. His hands are rough and warm and draw away all too soon.

I swallow around the lump that's found its way into my throat. I look up into those eyes, his beautiful eyes shining with barely contained tears of his own, and he seems somehow more human, less the all powerful Sheppard-god, more the lost colonel I could almost fall for if I weren't always getting in my way.

Something happens then, some barely perceptible shift in the way he stares at me, and everything is okay. No, more than okay, everything's wonderful as he unbuttons my jacket, throwing it to the wind. I peel the black t-shirt off his chest, and after a few more articles of clothing are removed in a flurry of motion, we're together, finally together in the way I think we always should have been.

Many hours later, we lay spent on that same balcony, both of us panting under the weight of our respective chests. I turn my head so that I'm facing him, and that indescribable something is back in his eyes. "Does this mean you forgive me?"


	2. Caged

_A cage, that's all this city really is. A vicious trap that gets smaller and smaller everyday, until the walls close in around us, and all that was is gone._

Everyday it becomes harder to avoid him. Everyday I have to find a new, out-of-the-way corner of the city to work. Day after day, the city gets that much smaller, until there's almost no place I can hide.

I take the dark hallways, only slightly more dangerous than the others, and I try to stay below the water, where no one, not even John, would be stupid enough to come looking anyway. I have Radek bring me my meals for fear of seeing him in the mess, and I never go back until at least 0300.

Everything is fine, or close enough to it, on missions. We can be professional just long enough for me to find an excuse to leave with one of the others.

I see how he watches me, and it's all I can do to stay away. I don't want to avoid him, don't want to have to turn my back on him like this, but if I don't it could ruin him. It wasn't so bad before, when we were never going back. We were together, we were all we needed and we were happy.

But now, with Caldwell popping in and out every twelve minutes and home just a short trip away, I can't be near him. I know he's out there somewhere seeking me out, and it hurts to know I could be with him right now.

The door slides open. It's far too early for Raked to be binging me down my lunch, and I don't want to hear it when his voice floats in from behind me. "Rodney?"

"Very busy, John, come back later," I mutter quickly without turning.

"What are you doing down here?" he asks, and I can hear him turning in place, walking around a small circle, taking it all in. His voice comes closer as his footsteps echo on the walls.

"Work. Very important work that you're distracting me from."

He stops coming closer, and I would turn to face him if I knew I could do it without falling apart. His hand falls on my shoulder, and he spins me around.

"You look like shit," we say in chorus, bringing a smile from him.

"Gee, thanks, Rod. Nice set up you got going here," he says, gesturing around to the barren walls and empty space of this hole in the wall I wouldn't grace with the term 'lab'.

"Well, it's very quiet, secluded—"

"Far away from anywhere I might be working," he said conversationally, still glancing around.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, feigning innocence, even confusion.

"Cut the shit, Rodney," he says, not in the snappish tone one might expect, but with something akin to pain in his voice. "Do you really think after all this time you can still lie to me?"

"John, I don't—"

"Why?"

"Have any idea—"

"No, no more lies. You're avoiding me and I want to know why!"

He's hurting; it's in his eyes, in his voice, the way he stands, shaking, in front of me. I turn back to the 'desk' I'd been using before he came in, turn back so that he won't see me cry. "Get out. I'm trying to work."

"But Rodney—" he starts desperately.

"Get out!" My voice is shrill and tight, but I just manage to keep it from cracking. His steps retreat and the door slides open and shut again. "Goodbye, John."

And that's when I fall apart; slumping on the table and crying until there aren't any more tears.


	3. Released

Professional isn't a word I can live without any more. He told me once, let's be professional. Can't let this interfere with our work. His eyes were warm and his voice was soft. But that was before. He hasn't spoken to me since that day under the city except to bark orders. When he looks at me, it's with a glare. But under the glare is a broken man I can't try to fix.

We have an understanding. I don't go near him, he doesn't come near me. As far as he's concerned, that's just the way I want it. We have our own territories, things like the difference between a lab and a gym. Places I wouldn't go except to see him, places he used to come looking for me. It's funny how looking down a hall can be like a knife in your heart.

It all worked fine until today. Today we were on a planet somewhere and we were separated from Ronon and Teyla, captured and thrown into a hanging cage in a room in a tower on some planet neither of us ever heard of. Today is when I broke the agreement. "How are you John? I mean-How're you doing?" I ask him without looking over to his corner of our prison. Even here we draw lines.

For a minute I think he will ignore me until I hear his voice like ice. "How do you think I'm doing?"

I probably deserved that. I risk a glance to find he hasn't even turned around. "John-"

He interrupts me without looking at me. I hate it when he does that. "You know, Doctor, I actually prefer Colonel."

Enough is enough, and I just can't take it when he gets like this. I turn around to face his back, causing the hanging basket to tip every which way, but I don't care. "Look, _Colonel,_" and I give his rank a pointed emphasis, "this is just as hard for me as-"

"Don't you dare!" He whirls around as he yells, making the cage spin. We're bouncing around now, and the chain that holds us creaks. "Don't say it," he says more quietly, but with just as much of that hot intensity, looking me right in the eye.

I can't stop the words from coming after all this time, and maybe I don't even want to anymore. "You really don't get it, do you? After all the time we spent together, all the times you said you loved me! You can look at me and not see that I'm falling apart without you. Don't you get it? It was all for you!"

"For me?" He laughs in the sort of derisive manner I never thought he had in him.

"Does 'conduct unbecoming' mean anything to you? Of course it was for you. If Caldwell ever found out-"

"To hell with Caldwell! Did it ever even occur to you to talk to me about any of this, get my opinion, maybe work this out together? Of course not. The great Dr. Rodney McKay can solve any problem all by himself!"

"I was trying to protect you!" I try to stand and the chain holding us to the ceiling snaps, sending us crashing to the ground. The cage seems to shatter around us, and a large piece of metal flies across my face, leaving a sticky warmth in its wake. Blood.

"Come on, Rodney," he says grabbing my arm and pulling me through one of the doors into the corridor, around so many corners to daylight. I can't think in the rush of it all, the passing brickwork of the hallway, the blood in my ears, his footsteps rattling off the walls. But we're outside, and he's holding me and it's just like it used to be. Except that it's not. He's checking my head for serious injury, and now Ronon and Teyla are here somehow and we're running again. The gate opens, and then I pass out. But I almost thought I felt John pushing the hair out of my face like he used to.


	4. Death

It had been a long day for me. Wake up, run, yell at marines, train with Teyla, train with marines, train with Ronon, watch marines train with Ronon (always good for a laugh), argue with Rodney, barely avoid citywide disaster, argue with Rodney some more, hit the gym, few more training sessions, quick evening run, meeting with Elizabeth. Very, very long day.

I got back to my room and spent a couple of hours in that limbo-never-land between sleep and awake, where you're almost asleep and something keeps pulling you back. I had just passed out of it, and I swear I was just falling asleep when the door chime sounded. I ignored it, hoping whoever it was would just go away. They didn't, so I resolutely decided to cover my head with the pillow. Even if I could still hear the chime, there was the slim chance I would suffocate myself. Wishful thinking, I guess.

The bell rose in pitch, volume and frequency until I finally thought the door open. The lights snapped on as Rodney walked in, gesturing wildly and talking (probably to himself). His eyes had been on the floor, watching his feet as he walked, but his head snapped up, and he seemed startled by my presence. It passed quickly. "No, no, come in, I insist," I muttered at him.

"Why do we do it?"

"Interrupting? Of course not. Not like anyone actually sleeps at—" I checked the clock. "2 a.m. It's two in the morning, Rodney!"

The gaze he turned on me was empty, hollowed out. "Why?"

"Because!" He glared at me. "Hey," I said, holding up my hands up defensively. "You asked."

"But your answer makes no sense."

"Neither did the question. Seemed appropriate."

"Day in, day out, all the time, the things we've seen, what we do. Why? What are we fighting for? Is any of this really worth it?" he asked hopelessly, employing a gesture that could encompass just the room or the entire galaxy at will.

The way he looked at me, his eyes seemed to go right through me, the wall, and the outer atmosphere. He focused on me for a moment and I pounced, asking, "What's this really about?"

"I don't know," he moaned hopelessly. He plopped helplessly down on the bed I was so determined to continue occupying.

"It's Griffin, isn't it?" At mention of the name, he winced as if he'd been hit. After a moment of silence, partly out of respect, partly because neither of us could think of anything to say, I put a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

"What about the ones that were? How can I live after all of this, all the people I could have saved? They were just kids, John! Every one of them had a future and a life waiting for them and I took it away." He continued on, leaning more and more toward babbling as time wore on.

His rambling gained heat and speed as he went on, to a point where I could no longer understand him. He'd stopped stopping for air, and his face was turning that reddish purple it always went right before all hell broke loose. "Rodney!" I snapped. He stopped abruptly and looked up at me like a lost child, and I couldn't help grinning down at him. I took a deep breath and let it out. Certain I had his attention, I positioned myself behind him and put my hands over the joints where his neck met the shoulders. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"I want to show you something."

"What could you possibly show me with my eyes closed?"

"I want to teach you something." I waited for him to insult me, something like 'What could you possibly have to teach me' blah blah blah 'greatest mind in two galaxies'. But he didn't. He just sat there with his eyes closed. "It's a trick I use every time I have to give the order that means some poor kid won't be going home, every time some one dies on my watch, every time I have to tell mom and pop that their little Jimmy or Lisa or Tom died in the field. Died because of me."

"How many times have you…had to?"

"More times than I'd like to remember, but few enough that I still can." There was a long pause as I thought of them, saw them clear as day in front of me, mocking, screaming, laughing, accusing. I pushed the ghosts aside for Rodney's sake. There would always be time for them later. "So, this trick. Your eyes closed?"

"Yes." He sighed impatiently, always a good sign for Rodney.

"Take a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth." I sat for a long moment, listening to him draw the air in, then there was a small pop as his lips parted and it all came rushing back out. "Now, and this is the most important part, so listen carefully. Live your life." The sheets rustled as he half turned, eyes still closed, to try to face me. He was so freaking adorable. "Griffin did what he did because it was the best chance to save you. The worst thing you can do is let that sacrifice be in vain. If nothing else works, just remember. You save lives everyday by just being here, being you. And every one of them, Griffin and all of them, they were just making sure you could keep doing it." I sat there for a minute, wishing like hell the same could be said of me. It isn't often I find myself envying Rodney, but when I do, I really do. "You can open your eyes now. You gonna be okay?"

"I…think so. I can't believe that actually worked." Rodney's eyes were wide with incredulity.

I shrugged. "Always has." I always hate lying to him. I looked down on the confused, slightly angry scientist and gave him a quick kiss. "Now, off to bed with you." But he was already half asleep, sprawling across the bed. I sighed, shaking my head with a grin. "Bastard."


End file.
